


loving you is a losing game

by steelatoms



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Crying, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, F/M, Fix-It, Getting Together, Grief/Mourning, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, but not what you think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 01:07:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20826836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelatoms/pseuds/steelatoms
Summary: Richie and the other Losers attempt to save Eddie.





	loving you is a losing game

**Author's Note:**

> title is from arcade by duncan laurence

Eddie Kaspbrak hadn’t known what to expect when he had gotten that phone call from his old friend Mike with a plea for him to return to Derry.

Reunions seemed needless, he didn’t remember his childhood anyway (though he knew why now, as thoughts flew through his ever-active mind).

Still, arriving in Derry, seeing all his friends (especially Richie) again, it made him feel happiness, true, unadulterated glee for the first time.

Then he remembered the clown, and he found out Stan died, and now he was lying in a pool of his own blood against a rock as his friends fought an intergalactic monster.

_ “You’re a fucking clown!”  _ he heard them yell, and he wanted to help them, wanted to yell, but was too busy coughing up globs of thick, volumous blood that nearly choked him.

The edge of his vision began to blur, and the white-hot agony that spread across his body was starting to fade as he felt exhaustion come over him.

He was dying, and as terrified as he was about it, he would die knowing he wasn’t a coward.

He glanced at Richie, the man seeming a lot more terrifying as he stabbed It with the pincer that had been through Eddie’s torso a few minutes earlier. He was consumed with anger, uncontrolled, horrifying rage and it pained Eddie to see it.

He loved Richie.

Always had, ever since they were children playing in a sandbox and lightly bullying one another.

Darkness began to fill Eddie’s line of sight, and he realised he was barely able to breathe anymore

It didn’t matter.

He watched his friends defeat It, then released a shaking breath, spiralling into unconsciousness.

*

_ “Eddie. Eddie.”  _ Richie stepped away from the desiccated clown in front of him to rush over to his friend, kneeling beside him, “Eds?” he forced a smile, “We did it, buddy. We--” he broke off when he noticed just how still his friend was,  _ “Eddie?” _

Behind him, Beverly released a sob, Ben gathering her close in a tight embrace. The cavern began to collapse around them, but Richie didn’t care, a sob building in his chest.

_ “Rich,”  _ Bill’s voice was soft, comforting, yet there was a foreboding truth behind his words, “Rich, wuh-we have to go.”

Richie shook his head, knowing what Bill was trying to suggest,  _ “N-No.  _ He’s fine, guys. He’s just hurt, we need to get him out of here.”   
  


“Richie…” Bev was devastated, audibly so, but still tried to comfort him, “Honey… I think he’s dead.”   
  


Richie shook his head and pulled Eddie’s limp body close, burying his face into his neck, relieved when he felt the small lift of his chest.

_ “Guys, he’s breathing!”  _ his voice sounded squeaky, as if it was one second away from failing on him completely, “He’s still alive guys. We have to get him outta here!”   
  


Ben broke away from Beverly and helped him grab Eddie, both of them thankful that his friend was small enough to be manoeuvered through the sewer system without much fuss, though the ever present worry that he’d bleed out remained.

The Losers bolted out of Neibolt, resting the unconscious Eddie on the ground as Bill jumped on his bike to go and get help, Bev running to one of the neighbours to use their phone. Neibolt crumbled behind them, and Richie fell to his knees beside Eddie, putting his jacket under the other man’s head.

“You’re not going to fucking die.” he hissed, “Come on, if you can survive both being the child of and marrying Jabba the fucking Hutt, you can survive this. Come on, Eds.” he brushed back the hair that stuck to his head and barely acknowledged Ben sitting beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder, “You can’t fucking leave me.”   
  


*

The paramedics allowed the Losers to join Eddie on the journey to the hospital after Beverly threatened them a few times and as they sat in the ambulance together, Richie finally broke.

At first it was a quiet, weak sob, then soon enough he was bawling like a child, his hands covered in Eddie’s blood --  _ so  _ much blood, far too much for a person to lose and be okay.

Ben pulled him close, as he had tried to when Richie talked of leaving at the hotel, and all he could think about was the fact that if he  _ had  _ left, he would’ve forgotten and would’ve been spared all this heartache.

*

At the hospital, they rushed Eddie into the ICU on a gurney, and the Losers were stopped before they could go any further, instead having one of the nurses ask asinine questions.

_ “So, what relationship is Mr. Kaspbrak to you?”  _ the man asked, but Richie couldn’t focus.

Beverly asked, “We’re family.”

_ “Mm hm.”  _ the nurse noted down, “And what exactly happened?”

Ben replied, “We told you, he was attacked.”

“By what, exactly?” at Ben’s incredulous look, he added, “Simply procedure.”   
  


Bill snapped this time, “Duh-Does it matter? Cuh-Can’t you just do your fuh-fucking jobs and huh-huh-- help him?”   
  


Before the doctor could retort, Mike stood up, offering an apologetic hand on the shoulder, “Sorry, my friend. We’ve just been through a lot. Look, I don’t mind answering questions, but I’d rather go somewhere else, okay? My friends are traumatised enough.”

“Fine.” the man sighed, “Follow me,” he and Mike went off down the hallway together, leaving the other four Losers to watch the door as they sat watching the door that led to the ICU unit.

After a few minutes, Beverly got to her feet, “I’m going to go get some more paper towels and something to drink, anyone want anything?”

“I’ll come with you.” Ben replied, “I could do with the walk.” he looped his arm into hers, “Bill, you want anything?”

Bill nodded, “Coke, please.”   
  


“Rich?” Ben asked, and when Richie didn’t reply, his attention on his own still bloody hands, he swallowed thickly, “I’ll, uh, I’ll get you a coke too.” he and Beverly left, leaving him alone with Bill.

There was a moments awkward silence before Bill finally spoke, “I’m suh-suh-sorry, Richie.”

“It’s not your fault,” Richie replied, flat and unconvincing; he totally blamed Bill, for getting them involved in the clown-hunting business all those years ago, even if he knew it wasn’t fair.

Just as he had lost Georgie, Richie almost lost Eddie.

Still could lose him, he realised, whilst he was at the hospital, there was so much that could go wrong, he could’ve ruptured an organ, could’ve bled out, could’ve been infected by some kind of space alien virus.

He was beginning to think like Eddie, like a paranoid hypochondriac, and at this point he didn’t even care. He was covered in Eddie’s blood, it staining his glasses and soiling his shirt and he just didn’t care anymore.

He simply wanted to hold him, to kiss him, to tell him how he felt. 

Richie had been in love with Eddie for as long as he knew him and he hadn’t told him because he had been so scared of what people would think, Derry was a town of secrets even without the evil clown. So he hid.

Now, Eddie laid near death on an operating table and all he could think about was all the lost time.

Maybe Eddie didn’t feel the same (he remembered the incident in the arcade, and just how unlovable he felt as he sat sobbing on a park bench).

Maybe it was him being confused (even though it was the one thing in his life he was one hundred percent sure about).

Maybe he didn’t deserve Eddie’s love  _ (I know your secret, your dirty little secret) _ .

However, maybe there was a universe where he had manned up and told him how he felt, either at the hotel, or when Eddie was freaking out, or after being freed from the Deadlights, when all he wanted was to kiss the over-excited look right off Eddie’s face.

Maybe things would be different, maybe Pennywise would’ve stabbed him instead and he wouldn’t be in a situation where the love of his life was possibly about to die.

_ “Rich?”  _ Bill asked, “Ruh-Richie, you okay?”

Richie replied, his voice thick with tears,  _ “I’m fine.”  _ and he knew it was the worst lie he had ever told by the disbelief on Bill’s face, “Seriously, Bill. I-I’m…” his face crumpled and he broke down yet again, sobs coming from him almost hysterically, other visitors staring in confusion as Bill pulled him into his arms.

_ “I’m here, Rich.”  _ he mumbled against his hair, “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

He calmed down a few minutes later, when Beverly and Ben came back with bags of various food, and about half an hour later, Mike returned, looking completely drained as he sat down.

“Here, man.” Ben handed him a bottle of coke and one of the many sandwiches he and Beverly had stress-bought from the vending machines.

It seemed like forever before a doctor approached, an unreadable expression on his face as all the exhausted Losers straightened up.

_ “Eddie.”  _ Richie swallowed thickly, “I-Is he-”   
  


The doctor replied, “We managed to stabilise him. He lost a lot of blood, but thankfully, he wasn’t punctured anywhere too vital, so he should be alright with some rest.”

Richie released a heaving sigh of relief, eyes filling with tears,  _ “Oh, thank fuck.” _

“When can we see him?” Beverly asked, her hand finding Ben’s and squeezing tightly.

The man replied, “Well, we had to give him a general anaesthetic to manage the pain, but he was responsive. He should be awake tomorrow, if you want to come back then. He did speak of you all very much when he regained consciousness.”

“He did?” Richie’s question came out breathily, mostly from exhaustion but also from intrigue.

The doctor nodded, “Yep. He was pretty worried. We think there may have been some delerium too, he kept talking about some clown, but that could easily be from the blood loss.”   
  


_ “Yep.”  _ Mike shifted awkwardly, “The blood loss, definitely.”

The doctor advised, “All I can recommend is that you all go home, get some sleep and you can come visit tomorrow.”

“Thank you, doctor.” Beverly smiled, then happily threw her arms around Ben, squealing.

Bill announced, “I’m going to phone a taxi, take us back to the hotel. Cuh-Come on, guys.”

“You coming, Rich?” Ben asked.

Richie nodded, getting to his feet shakily and somehow knowing he wouldn’t get any sleep that night, despite how emotionally and physically destroyed he felt.

*

He was right, and as he lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, all he could do was worry and stress over everything that had happened. Eddie had almost died in his arms, and he couldn’t do anything but cry and stare.

He was weak, and he knew it.

It was times like this he missed Stan -- he missed him  _ all the time,  _ but especially now -- whilst he had always been neurotic and stressful, he was the smartest, wise beyond his years.

He wanted to hug Stan and tell him it was over, that it was okay to come back now, that It was dead and he didn’t have to be gone anymore.

Unfortunately, Stan Uris was gone, and was never coming back.

*

Richie finally fell asleep around 5:45am, with them getting up at 8:00 to go visit Eddie, but as he slumbered, he didn’t feel relaxed, didn’t drift off into dreamworld.

He was in the Deadlights, floating off the ground.

He saw himself, grieving Eddie, who it had been too late to save. He saw the Losers, his  _ family,  _ dragging him away from Eddie’s body, forcing him to leave his friend behind as Niebolt crashed down, burying him forever.

He saw them all in the Quarry, trying to joke and commemorate Eddie. He saw himself crying, and felt their warmth as they held him, allowing him to mourn.

He saw how lonely and isolated he became, drowning himself in a bottle to avoid feeling. 

He felt himself inevitably going down Stan’s path, taking a bath and slitting his wrists because he couldn’t live without Eddie.

So much blood, from Eddie and himself.

They were made of the same materials, all ripped up and broken, like the pieces of a puzzle; take one away from the other and they became either incomplete or worthless, or both in Richie’s case. Eddie could shine on his own, he had a wife and a job, whilst Richie had dive bars and a worrying track record with drink and drugs. 

He felt the blade against his wrist, heard Eddie’s voice pleading with him not to do it, heard Stan’s cries for him to stop.

  
  


Then, he heard the ring of his alarm clock, jolting him awake and causing him to bang his head against the headboard, hissing in immediate pain as he fumbled for his glasses.

It was time.

*

The Losers Club minus two barely spoke a word to each other before arriving at the hospital, aside from a poorly-timed snark from Richie about Ben and Beverly spending the night together which only garnered an awkward silence.

They signed in, then headed up to Eddie’s room and it took all of Richie’s strength not to collapse right there and then from the overwhelming emotion that surged over him.

Eddie was lying in bed, a huge bandage covering his chest, almost comically as the wound had been massive, sure, but not like this.

Richie couldn’t make a joke, couldn’t make a comment, and it’s only when he heard Beverly’s hiccuping sobs that he could even breathe.

_ “Hey, guys.”  _ Eddie’s voice sounded gravelly, as if he had just woken up, and all Richie wanted to do was kiss him, “So this fucking hurts.”

Ben gave a choked laugh, walking over and ruffling his hair, “How are you doing, man?”

“Well, aside from the fact that a clown stuck me like a popsicle, I’m fine.” he paused, then asked, “Is It--”

Mike nodded, “It’s gone. We killed it for good.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you, man.” Bill added.

Eddie smiled, “Thank God. Because I don’t know about you, but I am  _ so done  _ with clowns. I mean, seriously--”   
  


“How can you joke like this?” Richie finally spoke, his whole body trembling, “H-How can you just laugh about what happened l-like you didn’t nearly fucking  _ die?” _

Eddie’s gaze softened, “Guys, could I, uh, could I speak with Richie alone, please?”   
  


“Yeah, sure.” Mike said, and the others agreed, filing out and leaving the two alone.

Eddie began as soon as the door shut,  _ “Rich--” _ __   
  


Richie cut him off, “You nearly died. No, I  _ saw  _ you die. In the Deadlights, I saw It kill you, an-and you’re here. You’re joking and alive and y-you’re not…”

_ “I’m here.”  _ Eddie’s voice attempted to lend comfort to his traumatised friend, but to no avail.

Richie’s voice raised, “No, you don’t get it, Eds. I  _ saw  _ you fucking die. I saw you die and there was nothing I could do.”   
  


“I’m not dead, I’m here.” Eddie’s hands sought his, but Richie recoiled from the touch.

He shook his head, “I can’t do this. I can’t be here. I can’t be anywhere near here. I can’t.”   
  


“Just tell me what’s on your mind, okay? We can figure this out.” Eddie’s big eyes were pleading now, and Richie couldn’t resist.

He stepped forward, cupping Eddie’s non-injured cheek as he crashed his lips against his injured friend’s, pulling away instantly.

_ “I’m… I’m sorry.”  _ tears fell from his eyes and he swiped at them, “I shouldn't've--”

Eddie then confessed, “I love you.”

_ “What?”  _ Richie’s world crashed to a halt, and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

Eddie’s lower lip trembled, “I love you, Rich. I always have.” Richie turned away, but Eddie heard the small, quiet sobs that escaped him,  _ “Rich?” _

“I--” Richie spun back around then crashed his lips back against Eddie’s, sobbing into the kiss.

Eddie felt the same, the kiss was telling enough as the still injured man reciprocated, mouths slotting against each other as one of Eddie’s hands wound it’s way into Richie’s hair.

When they finally broke away for air, their foreheads remained pressed together as they panted into the miniscule space between them.

“You’re crying.” Eddie noted.

Richie smiled, “I’m happy. God I love you so much, Eddie.” he then paused, “Wait. Your wife.”

“Phoned her this morning, told her I wanted a divorce.” Eddie explained, “I mean, when you nearly die facing a killer clown from outer space, it kinda puts things into perspective. What I’m trying to say is, Richie Tozier, would you be my boyfriend?”

Richie answered by kissing him again, still crying as he did so.

*

After a few weeks, Eddie was discharged from the hospital, and both he and Richie decided to remain in Derry for a few more weeks whilst he recuperated. When they received letters from Stanley explaining his decision, they grieved their friend together, remembering the good times with him.

One day, Richie tugged Eddie’s hand as they went for a walk down the river, onto the Kissing Bridge.

“Dude, I’m still fragile, be careful.” Eddie warned, earning an eye roll as Richie stopped by a particular carving, “What?”   
  


Richie explained, running his finger along the carving, “Look at it.”   
  


Eddie looked at the carving, noticing that it faintly read  _ ‘R + E’,  _ and he couldn’t help but smile, “Aww, baby. You had a crush on me?”

“Well, duh, bonehead.” Richie took out a knife and recarved the letters, “That’s better.”

Eddie shrugged, “I don’t know, still defacing public property.”

“Oh, shut up.” Richie rolled his eyes again, putting the knife away, “It’s romantic, okay? And hey, I figure, you’re healing, we can leave in a couple of weeks, so why not leave our little mark here?”

Eddie smiled, “Where will we go?”

“I don’t know.” Richie got to his feet, wrapping his arm around Eddie’s waist, their foreheads pressing together, “Anywhere, I guess.”

His boyfriend murmured, “Well, I guess travelling with my gorgeous jackass of a boyfriend doesn’t sound too bad.”

“No, it sounds perfect, doesn’t it?” Richie’s smile widened, “Me and you, the open road. Other stuff.”

Eddie snorted a laugh, “You wish, Tozier.”

“Come on, you just called me gorgeous.” Richie retorted.

The shorter man fired back, “I take it back. You’re cheesy. Unbearable. Annoying.”   
  


“Harsh words coming from a Hobbit.” Richie then pulled him into a passionate, lingering kiss, hands cupping Eddie’s face as they moved in tandem with another, pulling away only when they absolutely needed to, “You know what, I think we should leave tomorrow. Just go. We’ll bring your meds with us and then we see the world.”   
  


Eddie laughed, “You’re so corny.”

“Not what your mom said last night,” Richie retorted, then snorted a laugh, “Sorry, baby, couldn’t resist. So, yes or no?”

Eddie pulled him down into another kiss, this one much shorter, “That answer your question?”

“Well, I might need more to get a concise answer, I’m leaning towards ‘yes’.” Richie answered, “But, like I said, more research is needed to confirm.”

  
  


Eddie flirtatiously grinned, “I can arrange that. Come on, let’s get back to the hotel.”

“No disagreements from me there.” Richie smiled, glancing back at the lettering once more before allowing himself to be pulled away.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos/comments are appreciated
> 
> Follow my twitter @steelatoms and my tumblr @bisexualseg-el


End file.
